


a camouflage for what resembles rage

by lady_krysis (saekhwa)



Category: Bitch Slap (2010), Death Proof (2007)
Genre: Canon Character of Color, Character of Color, Crossover, Crossover Pairing, F/F, Female Character of Color, Female Characters, Female-Centric, Femslash, Fingerfucking, Hate Sex, Interracial Relationship, POV Character of Color, POV Female Character, Porn, Rare Characters, Rare Fandoms, Rare Pairing, Ridiculous, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-24
Updated: 2011-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-15 22:26:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saekhwa/pseuds/lady_krysis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abernathy didn't think being one of the cool kids was going to involve <em>this</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a camouflage for what resembles rage

**Author's Note:**

> I am cheap and easy and can be convinced to write anything. Written for [](http://lunesque.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**lunesque**](http://lunesque.dreamwidth.org/) , who often takes advantage of that, and for the porn. You might not quite appreciate how ridiculous Camero is (or love her as much as I do) until you've seen _Bitch Slap_.

Abernathy is caught so off guard by Kim's and Zoë's suggestion that she stares at them, unblinking, for several long seconds before she snaps out of it with a fierce shake of her head and an almost shrill, "What?" Because honestly? She can't fucking believe that they would— She shakes her head again and slices her hand through the air to end the conversation. "No way. I'm not touching"—Abernathy looks over her shoulder at the lady, Camero, who looks like she's wigging the fuck out again—" _that_." Abernathy folds her arms over her chest and pointedly looks at Zoë. "You're the thrill seeker. Why don't you do it?"

"Well." Zoë makes a face, her nose scrunching up as her eyes flit to Camero, who's probably doing something lewd, but Abernathy refuses to look. Then Zoë leans in and drops her voice to a whisper. "Okay. The truth is, she kind of scares me."

Kim rolls her eyes and cocks her hip out, propping a hand on it in her 'head bitch in charge' stance. "We've gotta do something here. _Now_ ," she says, holding up a finger when Abernathy opens her mouth to protest, "I'm not sayin' we have to fuck her. I'm _just sayin'_ we have to make her _think_ she might get a little"—Kim shrugs—"somethin'-somethin'."

Oh, fuck no. "Why do we even need her?" Abernathy asks, dropping her arms, one twitch away from stomping her foot. "We can hunt down this—" She waves a hand, suddenly at a loss for the guy's name. "This Skankcandy-olivan-whatever ourselves."

Kim's about to answer, but it's Camero's voice they hear.

"Listen, panty wasters. I don't have time for the tango. You want something, and I ... ."

The rest fades out because Abernathy is struck by how pissed she suddenly is. "What did she call us?" She looks at Zoë and Kim and then at Camero. "What did you just call us?" Camero smirks. "Oh, hell, no, Kim. That is _it_. Fuck this shit." Abernathy shoots forward but doesn't get more than two steps before Kim is dragging her back and taking the lead.

"I think," Zoë whispers in Abernathy's ear, "that she just called us panty wasters, Abs."

"Shut it, Zo."

"Okay, look," Kim says, setting a hand on her hip and holding up a finger to emphasize her point. "I don't know who the fuck you _think_ we are, but we"—She motions at the group—"don't go around fucking random bitches hopped up on God-only- _knows_ -what. So this is how it's goin' down. You"—Kim points at Camero—"are going to take us to the motherfucker who stole our ride and then _we_ are going to go our separate ways before my friend here"—Kim jabs a thumb in Abernathy's direction and then waves two fingers in front of her to indicate the stretch of the road—"kicks your white, drugged out ass up and down this motherfuckin' street. Got it?"

Camero's smirk swallows her face, and she tilts her head in Abernathy's direction, giving Abernathy a blatant once over that just creeps her the fuck out. "Sounds like my kind of woman."

Abernathy darts forward again, but Zoë grabs her and pulls her back.

"Hey, don't worry." Camero fingers the butt of her gun. "I like it _rough_." Which she punctuates with a thrust of her hips.

Zoë snatches Abernathy back again, this time wrapping her arms around Abernathy's waist before Abernathy can seriously kick this bitch's ass.

"So are you gonna help us?" Kim asks.

Abernathy really wishes Camero would look at someone else. Or that they could settle this with a good old-fashioned cat fight.

"Oh, _yeah_."

~*~

"Shut _up_." Abernathy twists her hands, jerking her arms up, but all it does is make the ropes burn her wrists.

"Ah, c'mon, candy dropper. Are you tryin' to say you're not havin' a good time?" Camero's laugh is fucking _obnoxious_. "I figured ropes would be your thing."

"No." Abernathy jerks her arms again, gritting her teeth against how much that fucking hurts. But it's better than being stuck to this fucking chair one more _fucking_ second. "Ropes are _not_ my fucking thing— _Damn_ it!"

Abernathy stomps her foot because that's all she _can_ do, which pisses her off even more. She shouldn't even _be_ in this fucked up situation.

"How about this." She feels Camero's long fingers stroke against hers, and it makes her heart jump because she still very, very much wants to kick the bitch's teeth in. "Gimme a kiss, and I'll get us out of here."

"No."

"You sure?"

"I get free, I'm punching you in the fucking face," Abernathy swears, twisting again to get her fingers untangled from Camero's.

Camero laughs. Again. Softer this time like getting hit is a fucking treat. "Promise?"

"Shut up, Camero. Just shut the fuck up."

"You gotta loosen up, banana lips."

"And will you _stop_ with the fucking names!" Abernathy snaps, stomping her foot again.

"Both of you shut it!"

Abernathy winces, bracing herself with a breath before she turns her head to look at the big beefy guy standing by the door with a gun.

"Make me," Camero says, and Abernathy wants to do just that, slap that smirk right off of Camero's face. But Camero's not challenging Abernathy; she's challenging the big fucking brute at the door, who's not at the door anymore but stalking across the room toward them.

"Oh god," Abernathy says, the words slipping out, as hurried and panicked as the spike of her pulse as she twists her hands again, ignoring the burn of the ropes. They have to get free, and they have to get out because Camero is going to get them fucking killed before Kim and Zoë figure out what the fuck is going on, and Abernathy doesn't want to die. Not like this. Not until she's _forty_ and wrinkled, and if she has to die awake, she wants to be fucking shit-faced and wasted for it.

She darts a look over her shoulder again as she jerks her arms up, her heart beating so fast that it feels like it's bounced out of her chest, straight into her fucking throat. She hisses in a breath, but she has a hand free, and turns just in time to watch Camero bring the guy to his knees with a solid kick to the groin. Camero wraps her long legs around the guy's neck and laughs, thighs squeezed tight around his throat. She looks fucking crazy, and all Abernathy is is fucking _relieved_ as she untangles her left hand from the coils of rope.

The guy collapses onto the floor, and Camero plants a boot on his face. Abernathy doesn't expect her to turn around or for Camero's lips to skid across her cheek and settle on her mouth.

"Told you, baby," Camero murmurs, and captures Abernathy's upper lip between her teeth.

Abernathy rears back and punches her in the fucking face.

~*~

She doesn't know how they end up on the car, Abernathy shoved up onto the trunk, even though Kim would have a cow that her ass has even touched the paint, but after the day— No, the week, Abernathy has had, Kim can get the fuck over it.

Abernathy spreads her legs, gasping when the tips of Camero's fingers rub over her pussy, sliding along the lips up to Abernathy's clit. She pushes her hips down for more, head tilted back, a moan trapped in her throat. It breaks free when Camero fingers the edge of her panties, causing a thrilling little shiver to race through Abernathy's body.

"Let me do the driving, sweet tart."

Abernathy tangles a hand into Camero's hair and shoves her hips down again, rubbing herself against Camero's knuckles and not even caring that she hates this stupid crazy bitch a lot. This is nothing, though. This is just thank-fucking-god-I'm-alive sex, so it's easy for Abernathy to gasp, "God, yes, just _shut up_."

Camero laughs, soft and promising, the puff of her breath fanning warm over Abernathy's neck as she slides one finger into Abernathy.

"More," Abernathy moans, arching.

She fists her hands into the thin fabric of Camero's shirt, jerking her forward for a kiss that she doesn't fucking deserve, but sex isn't fun without kissing, and Abernathy deserves to get laid right now. It should be fun and nothing short of fan-fucking-tastic, so she parts her lips, following the seam of Camero's mouth with the tip of her tongue, making the kiss the luxury gourmet fucking treat that it is while Camero's fingers thrust deep in these tight little twists that make Abernathy bow off the car. She tries to catch Camero's tongue, keep control of the kiss at least, let the drag of their mouths build like the coil of tension in Abernathy's gut, but it's fucking impossible when she's already wrung out and desperate for the snap.

She slaps the car, arching up and away when Camero drives another finger into her, stretching her wide and pressing a thumb to her clit that makes every muscle in her body clench.

"Come on, baby." Camero curls her free hand around Abernathy's and drags her back down. "It's a full tilt a whirl."

Abernathy can't even ask what the fuck that _means_ , the pressure building from the curl and thrust of Camero's fingers, and Camero won't let her arch up or crawl away or go _anywhere_. Then Camero's mouth is on Abernathy's clit, and Abernathy is fucking done. She cries out with a hard shudder and thrashes loose, jerking herself off of Camero's fingers and riding out the heady rush of her orgasm.

The first thing she hears is Camero's obnoxious fucking laugh, but Camero's lips are warm against Abernathy's skin, sending quiet little shivers all through her.

"Now you can tell 'em," Camero says.

Abernathy loops her arms around Camero's throat, her heart jumping when Camero's knee presses against her pussy. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Camero smirks. "That I'm the best lay you ever had."

"That is _it_." Abernathy shoves Camero off with a glare, sliding off the trunk of the car. She slaps a hand against it, her knees fucking useless and wobbly, but manages to pull her panties up one-handed. "I have fucking _had it_."

"Yeah. And I don't mind givin' it to you again." Camero punctuates the statement with a thrust of her hips, and Abernathy is ready to leave her ass in the fucking desert.

~*~

"There's nothing to talk about," Abernathy says for the fourth time, glaring out the window with her arms folded across her chest.

"But, Abbie," Zoë whines, bouncing in her seat.

"Sit your ass down and put on your seatbelt," Kim cuts in. Finally. "She'll talk when she's fucking ready." But Kim shoots Abernathy a look in the rearview, one of those 'we will talk later and your ass better 'fess up' looks. Abernathy makes a show of rolling her eyes and turns her attention back out the window.

~*~

"I fucking hate you," she says when Camero's stupid leather pants appear on the stool next to her. A quick glance up and the sight of tanned abs confirms that yes, it's Camero, back to fucking ruin Abernathy's life again.

Camero laughs, of course, and presses in close, her breasts brushing against Abernathy's arm and her breath warm against Abernathy's ear. "But I'm still the best lay you ever had."

"And I still want to punch you in the fucking face."

Camero thrusts her hips, hands settled low on Abernathy's hips. "And you know I like it rough, baby."


End file.
